A Secret Between Friends: A New Zealand Sexy Beach Romance (Treats to Tempt You Book 6) (20 page)

Genie stood beside Niall, gathering what he wanted when he tugged her knee. Lifting one leg across his lap, she sat astride him. He rolled on the condom, and then without any further discussion, he raised her, maneuvered her into the right position, and lowered her down.

She dropped her head back as he slid into her, filling her up. “Oh, Jesus.” He felt magnificent, thick and hard, and she groaned as she stretched to accommodate him.

The speed of his passion had taken her by surprise. He’d aroused her gradually over the course of the last hour or so, careful to back off every time she came close to losing control, and his kisses had been languorous and sensual. Now, though, when she lowered her head and kissed him, his mouth became insistent and demanding, his hands tight on her hips as he thrust up into her.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he muttered, his voice a low growl. “I want you, Gin. I’ve wanted you for hours.” He claimed kisses from her in between his sentences, his hands travelling over her body, stroking and arousing her as they went. “I’ve had to fight with myself to slow down, when all I’ve really wanted to do is throw you onto the bed and take you, hard.”

“Oh…” How come he could make her dizzy just from his words?

He cupped her breasts and lifted them to fasten his mouth on first one nipple, then the other, sucking and then stroking with his tongue. Genie arched her back, instinctively pushing them toward him, her hips keeping up an insistent rhythm.

She tugged at the band that held her hair back and threw it onto the floor. Sliding his hand into her hair, he pulled her head down to kiss her again. She wanted to drive him to the edge and watch him tip over, because there was nothing more glorious than seeing him climax and knowing she was the one who’d taken him there.

His hands slid to her hips and he held her tightly as if trying to slow down her rapid thrusts, but Genie was past taking it slow. Needing him to lose control, she sank her hands into his hair to tug his head to one side, kissed up the stubble on his jaw to his earlobe, and bit it.

His body jerked. “Fuck!”

Catching his face between her hands, she kissed him. “I want you too,” she whispered, and thrust her tongue in his mouth. She pulled back to look into his hot, hungry eyes. “I
need
you, Niall. Fuck me. Hard as you like. I want you to. I want you to lose it with me.”

His breath left him in a rush, an exhalation of submittal, and before she could speak again, he stood and lifted her, walked forward a couple of paces, and lowered her again. Her butt met the cold surface of the table and she squealed, but he just laughed and pushed her onto her back.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she clenched her internal muscles. He growled and leaned forward over her, supporting himself on both hands and looking down at her with a feral glint in his eye.

“I think you were sent here to drive me mad,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“And I won’t be happy until I do.” She stretched out lazily, arms above her head. The wine was starting to have an effect, and the glowing scene on the walls and the patterns all over his body made her feel as if she’d taken a hallucinogenic drug. She felt oddly surreal, as if she were dreaming.

He began to move inside her, slow, lazy thrusts, pulling almost out of her each time before sliding back in, all the way to the hilt.

“Harder,” she begged him, but he just shook his head and smirked.

Pushing himself upright, he cupped her breasts, then smoothed his hands down over her stomach and hips. Moving up her knees, he spread them wide, then pulled his hips back and withdrew completely.

His lazy, sexy gaze perused her for a moment as he admired the view. Her instinct was to scold him and cover herself up, but she made herself lie still and relax, opening up to him. His hot eyes flicked up to her face for a moment, then back down, and she watched as he stroked two fingers down the smooth skin, then turned his hand and slipped them inside her.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and closed her eyes. He aroused her with his fingers for a while, and she knew he was watching her. Her face warmed in response.
It’s only Niall
, she told herself, but that was the problem—this was the man she’d dreamed about for years, fantasizing about him doing just this to her. It made her head spin to think he was really there. She swallowed down a sudden lump that appeared in her throat and then sighed as he withdrew his fingers.

He guided the tip of his erection back between her inner lips and she held her breath as he entered her. Barely inside her, he pulled out again, and she crossed her arms over her face, her whole body aching for release.

“Niall…”

Her plea turned into a deep groan as he continued to tease her entrance, his breathing growing deeper and more ragged. He pushed her knees wider, and she slipped a hand beneath each one to hold her thighs open for him. He slid inside her so easily that she knew she was swollen and wet. She couldn’t believe she was so turned on, and he’d hardly touched her clit.

“Jesus.” He paused, chest heaving. “You’re so fucking beautiful. I can see you closing around me.”

“I can’t…hold on much longer.” Her orgasm hovered in the wings, her whole body humming with pleasure. He looked amazing, towering over her with his rainbow skin, but he seemed intent on going as slow as possible, and that wasn’t what she wanted, not any longer. “Niall, for the love of God. Fuck me already. I’m going to come like a train.”

He gave a short, sharp laugh. “Okay, honey. Get ready.” He shifted his stance, and then before she could prepare herself, he gave a swift, hard thrust.

She cried out, but he didn’t stop, setting up a fast pace and grinding hard against her mound. Each thrust brushed across her clit, and his hips had only pumped a dozen times before her climax hit her. She tucked her chin into her chest and screwed up her eyes, gasping out a series of
oh, oh, ohs
as she clenched around him. The feeling was amazing, hot, powerful pulses right in the heart of her, and when she finally fell back onto the table, it was with utter exhaustion.

Niall leaned over her, bracing his hands either side of her shoulders, and he looked deep into her eyes as he gave a final few thrusts. His expression was triumphant, maybe even a little smug, but there was also love in his eyes, and he kept his gaze fixed on hers as his body tightened and he swelled inside her. His eyes closed briefly, then opened again, slightly unfocussed, as his hips jerked with each pulse.

He continued to hold her gaze as his body calmed, and she stared back, transfixed, the paint on his face making her feel as if she’d just screwed an ancient Celtic warrior. It felt as if she’d played a bigger part in his climax than just being the body beneath him. He’d not come into just any woman—he’d reached into her soul and claimed her as surely as he’d branded her with that word on her back,
MINE.

His breathing grew more regular, and the intensity in his gaze faded a little.

“Fuck,” he said.

Laughter bubbled up inside her, releasing some of the tension. “Yeah. Well said.”

He pushed up and withdrew from her, disposed of the condom, then pulled her to a sitting position and wrapped his arms around her.

“You’re amazing,” he said in her ear.

“I just lay there. You’re the one who did all the work.”

“True. I am magnificent.”

She thumped his back. “Modesty becomes you.”

He let out a long, slow breath and kissed her hair. “No woman has ever made me feel like that. You are exceptional.”

Genie felt tongue-tied. As she descended from the dizzy heights of passion like a leaf floating to the ground on the autumn breeze, the first doubts began to mingle with the euphoria. The evening had been blissful, but they couldn’t put it off forever. They were going to have to talk about the future, and she really,
really
didn’t want to have that conversation.

Josie’s voice echoed in her head then:
You have to talk to him, Genie. He deserves to know the truth.
Guilt and duty twisted inside her, and she closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to have to tell him the truth. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if his eyes turned cold and he turned away from her. And yet could they have any sort of future without her confession?

Little had she known that the secret between friends would also mean the secret that remained between the two of them.

He moved back and looked down at her. “You okay?”

“I’m shattered. Mind-blowing orgasms tend to do that to a girl.”

He laughed. “Yeah. We’ll have to have a quick shower. First though, will you let me take a few photos?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. You look amazing.” He found his phone and framed her up. “Wow. That looks great. You can only see the paint—everything else is in darkness.”

“In that case yes, feel free.”

He snapped a few and let her take some of him. Then he led her off to the bathroom. They took a hot shower together, and although she was tired and her knee was beginning to ache, she enjoyed the way he washed her with slow strokes, obviously having fun with the process.

“Have you had a good day?” She finished cleaning his back and pressed a kiss between his wet shoulder blades.

“I’ve had a fantastic day.” He turned and pulled her beneath the spray, and gave her a long, slow kiss. “And I’m looking forward to tonight too. Taking you to bed, cuddling up with you, and knowing you’ll be there with me all night.”

She caught her breath. He’d been so romantic today, and her lips wanted to form the declaration that her heart was shouting. But the words refused to come.

He led her out and toweled her dry, and after she’d done the same to him, they went to bed and lay there for a while looking at the view of the southern sky on the wall, pointing out the constellations to each other.

Eventually, sleep overcame her. She turned on her side and let him pull her against his chest, comforted by the strengths of his arms around her, his slow and steady breathing as he started to doze.

She pressed her fingers to her lips. She loved him so much. Would she ever be able to say the words?

Niall was worried.

Genie had hardly said two words on their drive back from Russell, and when they arrived at his house, she picked up a book, curled up in a seat in the shade on the deck, and buried her nose in it.

He made them both a coffee and brought hers out to her, and took a seat nearby. He had his iPad on his lap and pretended to read, but he couldn’t concentrate.

He knew she’d enjoyed herself at the resort—that much had been obvious. So what was bothering her? It was clear she was deeply disturbed about something, and he wasn’t arrogant enough to think it was all about him.

Since she’d stayed with him, she’d awoken him most nights tossing and turning, a couple of times crying out in the dark. Last night had been the worst though by a long shot. He’d opened his eyes to find it still dark and had checked his phone to discover it wasn’t quite two o’clock. Beside him, Genie had been mumbling, but as he’d turned toward her, she’d started twitching and shouting. He’d tried to wake her, but it had been a good few minutes before her eyes had opened.

He’d taken her in his arms and held her, conscious that she was shaking, and he’d tried to get her to tell him about the dream. Although she hadn’t turned away from him, she’d refused to talk, and eventually had dozed off into an exhausted sleep. He’d lain awake for ages, though, staring up into the dark, feeling her heart beat beneath his hand where it rested on her ribcage.

Putting down his iPad, he looked across at her. Her gaze was fixed on the book, but he had the feeling she wasn’t seeing the words. Her left hand was resting on the bracelet she wore on her right wrist, her fingers sliding over the beads, counting them. Was she aware she was doing it?

“Gin.” He leaned across and put his hand on her arm. “Genie. Stop.”

She looked up, startled. “What?”

Gently, he took the book from her hands and put it down with his iPad. Then he took a piece of paper from his back pocket. “I thought we should choose the next item from the bucket list.”

“Okay.”

He smoothed out the list. He’d already read it through earlier, and had chosen the item he wanted. Circling his finger, he dropped it on top of the one he’d picked out. “Tell someone a secret that nobody else knows.”

She stared at the paper. “That’s cheating.”

“Yep. Doesn’t matter. It’s my choice.”

She picked up her coffee and sipped it. “Veto.”

Impatience flooded him. “For God’s sake.”

“What? I haven’t used my veto yet.”

“You can’t veto this one. It’s a new rule I just made up.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, frustrated. “It’s time we talked.”

She went pale. “I don’t want to.”

“I don’t care. We can’t carry on like this.”

“I know.” She swallowed. “Do you want to stop seeing me?”

He smiled. “No. Quite the opposite. That’s what we need to talk about. Among other things.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “You said you can’t remember the crash, but you dream about it every night, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t told me everything. I know I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. And I understand you’d rather talk to a professional. But it’s clear you’re suffering, and I want to help.”

“I’m okay.” She withdrew her hand.

“Gin, we’ve had fun, haven’t we?”

Her lips curved up, very slightly. “Yes.”

“I’ve had such a great time. I’m crazy about you—you know that, right?”

Her eyes widened, but he couldn’t tell if it was from delight or alarm. “Niall…”

At that precise moment, someone knocked on the front door.

He cursed under his breath. “Hold that thought.” Pushing himself to his feet, he went to the front door and opened it.

It was his parents.

“Hi, darling.” Sinead breezed past him before he could stop her. “We won’t stop long, but Dad wanted to ask you whether you’d be around to help at the weekend with a—” She stopped abruptly when Genie rose to her feet on the deck.

Garret swore softly and exchanged an exasperated look with Niall that said
Seriously, son?

Sinead turned on her heel. “We’ll come back when you’re alone.”

Standing in the doorway, Genie pressed trembling fingers to her mouth, and something inside him snapped.

“Right.” He shut the door behind his father and walked into the living room. “That’s it. I’m sick of not talking about stuff. We’re going to do this now.”

“No, we’re not.” Sinead went to walk past him, but he moved and blocked her way.

“Mum, please. This is ridiculous. You’ve looked after Genie as if she were your daughter almost all her life. She’s not to blame for Ciara’s death any more than I am.” He looked to his father for support, frustrated when Garret just frowned and didn’t say anything. “I know you’re both hurting,” Niall continued, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “but you can’t keep directing your grief onto her. It’s not fair, and it’s not her fault.”

Sinead’s eyes blazed. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot feel. This is nothing to do with you, Niall—although I’m beginning to be worried about finding Genie here. Please don’t tell me there’s something going on between you two.”

He glared at her. “We’re having sex, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“Oh my God.” Genie covered her face with her hands.

Already pale, Sinead went even whiter, although twin spots of red stood out on her cheeks. “Get out of my way.”

“No. I want you to explain to her and to me why this is her fault. She deserves that, if nothing else.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Fine.” She turned to the girl she’d looked after from the age of six, who looked horrified at the coming confrontation. “I took you into my house because I was good friends with your mother, and your father was struggling on his own. When he moved to Mangonui, Ciara was devastated to hear you were going, and it made sense to me to keep you with us. But right from the beginning, I knew you were going to be trouble.

“You were always rebellious, always the one leading, and Ciara always followed you. At school you constantly got her into trouble. As soon as you started talking about the Army, I knew she was going to follow you.” Sinead stabbed a finger at Genie. “You knew she’d do whatever you said, and you did it anyway. And now she’s dead. You tell me, Genie, hand on your heart, that you don’t bear any of the blame for her death.”

Niall looked at Genie, who remained silent. She’d dropped her hands to slide them into her pockets, and she stared at the floor.

Fury rose within him. Wouldn’t she even defend herself? “Why do you insist that Ciara didn’t have a mind of her own?” he snapped at his mother. “I know she looked up to Genie, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make her own decisions.” He sighed. “I had a long talk to her on the phone back in August. She told me during that conversation that when she first joined up, she wasn’t sure about it, but that she’d come to love Army life. She was so happy, Mum, all bubbly about going to Afghanistan. She was excited about the possibility of making lieutenant like Genie. The thing is, sometimes we want to do things in life but we’re too afraid, and it takes someone braver than us to force us out of our comfort zones. That’s what Gin did for Ciara—she encouraged her to try new things. Granted, sometimes when they were young it got them into trouble, but Ciara needed that push. Ciara wasn’t weak, Mum, and you’re being unfair to her by treating her as if she couldn’t make her own decisions.”

Sinead’s bottom lip trembled, and hope filled him. He was getting through to her.

He moved closer to take her hands. “I know the grief is unbearable at the moment. I haven’t got kids yet, so I can’t put myself in your place. But it will pass. And it’s killing me that you’re directing your anger onto Gin. I love her, Mum.”

Garret’s eyebrows shot up. Genie gasped.

“How long have you been seeing each other?” Sinead’s voice was little more than a whisper.

He smiled at the blonde-haired girl who was staring at them both, her blue eyes wide. “Not long,” he said.

His mother glared at him. “So how can you say you love her?”

“Mum, come on. There’s always been something between us.”

“So why has it taken this long for the two of you to get together?”

He hesitated. He could feel Genie’s eyes on him. She’d never asked him why he’d walked away after their kiss on Waitangi Day, maybe because she thought she wouldn’t like the answer. He knew he’d hurt her feelings and that she must have assumed he hadn’t liked it or was only playing with her. But the truth was so far from that, it wasn’t funny.

He didn’t want to tell Genie, but he’d picked the bucket list item on purpose, and he didn’t want to back out now.

“Ciara saw us kissing on Waitangi Day when the girls were fourteen,” he said. He heard Genie’s gasp, but he didn’t look at her. He proceeded to tell them what had happened.

It had been late, and hot. Everyone had been out around the pool. He’d come into the house to get a couple more packs of beer for his father, and he’d found Genie standing in the living room, leaning against the large glass doors that overlooked the garden. She’d worn shorts over a bikini, her body teetering on adulthood, already curvaceous where his sister’s had still been straight and flat.

There were four years between him and her, but it had seemed even more back then—he’d felt like a grown man while she’d still seemed like a kid. Even so, he’d been attracted to her for a while, his teenage body responding every time she walked past him in a skimpy dress, although he’d never acted on it. That evening she’d been unusually beguiling, surprisingly mature—they’d danced together, once, and she’d sent him the occasional flirtatious glance that had made his heart pound.

He’d had a couple of beers and the alcohol had given him the courage to walk up to her. She’d turned and rested her back on the glass as he approached, and for once she hadn’t smart-mouthed him, but instead had looked up, lips slightly parted, eyes shining in the darkness as he paused before her. He hadn’t said anything, but he’d moved closer to her, until he’d been able to feel the heat from her sun-touched skin.

Cupping her cheek with a hand, he’d lowered his lips and kissed her. She’d tasted sweet and hot, her lips soft. Her face had warmed in his palm, but she hadn’t pulled away, and emboldened by that as well as the alcohol, he’d pulled her into his arms.

Then he’d glanced up, and in the reflection in the glass he’d seen Ciara walk in, stop and stare, then turn and run out. Leaving Genie, worried Ciara would tell their parents, he’d followed her, and they’d had an argument, yelling at each other in the darkness at the bottom of the garden where nobody could hear them.

“What’s wrong?” he’d snapped at Ciara as she’d stood there in tears.

“You were kissing her.”

“I know. I like her. What’s wrong with that?”

His sister had glared at him sullenly. “I don’t want you to go out with her.”

He’d run a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Why not?”

“I just don’t.” Her lip had wobbled. “She’s my best friend. And you’re my brother. If you date, neither of you will want me anymore.”

He’d stared at her, shocked by her admission. “That’s bullshit. Even if I did date Genie, you’ll always be my sister.”

But she’d shaken her head, yelling that it wasn’t fair, he was taking Genie away from her, and she hated him, and he was the worst brother in the world… The usually quiet, placid girl had been hysterical, overwrought from tiredness and the small glass of wine she’d been allowed to have, he’d suspected, as well as from her jealousy. Her blazing anger had completely taken him aback.

He reached out to rub his mother’s arm. “I was worried she’d make herself ill, and I was a bit guilty anyway that Gin was only fourteen. I knew you and Dad wouldn’t be happy with us dating. So I promised Ciara I wouldn’t take the kiss any further. Shortly after that I met Tamsin. I made myself forget about Gin—I told myself it wasn’t meant to be. Life went on.

“But when Tamsin started talking about getting married, I knew it wasn’t what I wanted. My feelings for Gin had never gone. During the phone call I had with Ciara last August, I told her that part of the reason I was considering breaking up with Tamsin was because I’d never felt the same way about her that I felt about Gin.” He gave a rueful smile at Genie’s wide eyes. “She still didn’t like it—she refused to tell Gin that Tamsin and I had broken up. I decided rather than call Gin, I was going to tell her when they next came home on leave—I’d even planned to ask her out, but then Ciara died and everything became complicated. Even so, somehow it just happened.”

He smiled at Genie. It was probably the most he’d ever said in one go, and she looked as if he’d just told her he was moving to Mars next week.

Sinead’s expression had softened, but to his surprise Genie’s did the reverse, her face hardening.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said.

He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“I
am
to blame for her death.”

“Gin, please. Will you listen to me? She had a mind of her own, and she—”

She held up a hand. “No, Sinead’s right. I did talk Ciara into enlisting, and she wouldn’t have joined up if it wasn’t for me.” She lifted her chin. “But that’s not the only reason why I’m to blame. I lied when I told you I didn’t remember the accident.”